The Ache
by I Dream of Scotty
Summary: Set aroud the time Elisa died, when Stilman has told Scotty to take some time off. Scotty tries to come to terms with what has happned.
1. Chapter 1

This was a storyline on the show that had always interested me, hope you guys like it. Please read and review :-)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Cold Case

The Ache

Scotty Valens woke up to an odd buzzing sound in his slowly opened his eyes. He had had a rough night last night – a fact of which he was immediately reminded as his glance fell onto the empty bottle of scotch on his coffee table. He didn't remember exactly when he had fallen asleep but he was sure it was late. He sat up gingerly, feeling a pounding in his head as he did so. He groaned, mentally cursing himself for drinking so much yesterday. Once he has finally managed to get upright, he heard that that same buzzing sound again. He listened carefully and then noticed it was coming from the floor. He slowly began to search for the source of that noise and realised it was his cell phone vibrating. He reached down to the spot on the floor where it lay and picked it up, looking at the caller ID. It was Stilman. "Hey Boss," he greeted.

"Hi Scotty, how you doing today?" came John Stilman's voice on the other end.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he began, not really sure what to say.

"Are you getting plenty of rest?"

"Yeah," he said, "no need to worry."

"Okay then I'll let you go, remember, if you ever need to talk…"

"Yeah, I know, thanks," Scotty told him, grateful for the offer but at the same time wanting to get him off the phone.

"Bye Scotty, take care of yourself." Stilman said.

"Bye boss." Scotty said and then hung up. He sighed and sat back down on the couch. Ever since the death of Elisa he had had trouble sleeping. At first he would just lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling but he couldn't push away the sadness he felt inside, so he had decided one night to have a drink before bed to help him forget but this had soon become a habit. He knew he had to stop and that this wasn't right but he didn't know what else to do. He was lonely. Elisa's death had left a hole in his life and his heart, which he didn't know how to fill. He didn't even know if he wanted to fill it, feeling it would be a kind of betrayal.

He was about to close his eyes and try to sleep again when he heard a knock on his door. He groaned silently to himself and slowly, clumsily, walked over to see who it was. To his surprise, it was his partner and friend, Lilly Rush. "Hey," he greeted as he opened the door.

"Hey." Lilly replied quietly, "thought you might be hungry so I brought you some breakfast." She said holding up a bag of pastries.

Scotty rubbed his eyes sleepily, "Lil, aren't you meant to be at work?" He asked.

"Boss said I could take some lost hours; thought I'd drop by, see how you are."

"I'm fine; really, you don't have to do this."

"I know, but I wanted to. To be honest with you, I could really use the company."

Scotty wasn't completely convinced by that statement, knowing that Lilly Rush seemed to enjoy spending time on her own but reluctantly opened the door wider for her to come inside, too tired to argue.

Once Lilly had entered his apartment her eyes were immediately drawn to the empty bottle of scotch on his coffee table and she was instantly filled by wave of concern. Scotty noticed the direction of her gaze, "it ain't what you're thinkin'" he told her before she could say anything.

"And just what am I thinking Scotty?" Lilly inquired.

Scotty ran his hand through his hair, "I don't got a problem," he told her.

"I never said you did…" Lilly began,

"Good," Scotty paused.

"But you got to admit, this doesn't look good." She continued, "Look Scotty, if you want to talk…"

"I'm fine Lil, really," Scotty cut her off as he picked up the empty bottle and went into the kitchento dispose of it. Lilly followed.

"I'll just warm these up for us," Lilly told him, waving the bag in her hand.

Neither of them said another word to each other until they were sitting on his couch eating the pastries Lilly had brought over. It was Lilly who finally broke the silence. "That new bakery is really good, the staff is so friendly."

"Hmmm," Scotty said as he took a mouthful, "good pastries too!" He wasn't really hungry but somehow the sweetness of the cinnamon danish he was eating seemed to chase away his fatigue.

Lilly smiled, "I've always thought it's the perfect food for days like this," she said pointing at the rain outside. "Comfort food."

Scotty nodded, "yeah."

"You know, some days, I feel I could just eat a ton of these and not care about the consequences!" Lilly laughed and Scotty smiled slightly at this revelation. There was silence again for a few seconds before she continued, "but that's the thing about comfort food isn't it?"

He looked at her.

"You can get carried away, and before you realise it you've eaten far more than is good for you…and those consequences do catch up."

"You ain't talking about pastries are you?" he asked her.

Lilly took a thoughtful breath before saying, "all I'm saying is, be careful, look after yourself Scotty, 'cos those consequences won't just affect you."

He nodded but didn't say a word.

They finished eat in a comfortable silence, an implied understanding and assurance between them as the rain softly fell against the windowpanes.


	2. Chapter 2

It was now 2.14pm and it had started raining heavily outside. Scotty sat in front of the TV but wasn't really watching the programme that was on. His mind just couldn't seem to be able to focus; he just wanted something to distract him from the gaping hole that Elisa's passing had left in his life. Just then, a gust of wind caused the rain to beat down harder on the windows, snapping Scotty out of his trance. He got up and moved towards the sound, as if drawn to it somehow. He pulled back the curtain and began to stare up at the overcast sky and found that it reflected the feeling he carried in his heart, grey and cold. He stood there, motionless, just looking at the falling drops as they crashed down onto his windowsill outside, the rhythm hypnotic and soothing, a better distraction than he had all day.

He thought back to Lilly's visit earlier. He knew she was concerned about him and a part of him was warmed by it, but at the same time, there was part of him that just wished he could get away from her that she would just leave him alone because knowing that she cared about him just made the ache in his heart worse. He wanted to deal with this alone, anything else would just make him feel more vulnerable then he could bear. He tried to put on a brave façade in front of his colleagues but when Lilly had spoken to him a part of him wanted to crumble and it was a feeling that he didn't like.

But as he stood now, it was as if all his thoughts and feelings had quietened, the whole world has faded away and there was nothing else but him and the rain in that moment. Everything seemed to slow down, and the sound grew louder. The rain penetrated his mind, filling it with the sound of simple raindrops, pouring down, filling his soul, soothing, healing the ache, calming his body, merging mind and matter. His thoughts began to drizzle down in his mind, splashing onto his consciousness like water on the window sill. He could see them like a silent movie; there was motion but no sound. Thoughts without emotion. Disconnected, yet intrinsically joined. Suddenly the feeling of numbness became too much for him and he felt like a prisoner behind bars. Like the suspects he helped to put away. He felt like he'd committed a terrible crime by not feeling any kind of pain for losing the woman he loved, more so, not _wanting_ to feel anything, for just wanting the ache to go away. He had to get out of the apartment, go for a walk.

Scotty pulled the collar of his jacket around his neck as he was greeted by the cool wind as he stepped outside his apartment building. He didn't know where he was going but knew he had to get as far away from his apartment as possible. His pace was quick at first, then his thoughts caught up with him and he slowed to a casual stroll. The images of him and Elisa together as kids, laughing, making eyes at each other, he felt a trickle of warmth at these memories and a small smile crept up his face. _Good._ He thought to himself, reassured by the fact that he hadn't lost the ability to feel. The warm memories continued for another 5 minutes and he was so caught up in them that there were moments where he forgot that anything bad had happened, but then the sting of reality would stab at him and the memories shattered like glass. But he didn't feel as bad as he thought he would. In fact, he didn't feel _anything_. Just the numbness. No, there was something else there too, he wasn't able to place the feeling, but it was there at the back of his mind, in shadows.

He continued to walk down the streets, passing people but barely noticing, they were mere spectres, faint, intangible. He was walking through a ghost world, none of it real. More thoughts began to seep through and he found himself lost in memories of the time when Elisa had gotten sick. He churned it over and over in his head. He remembered the struggle he'd faced with her, combating her own demons. _She was getting better._ He thought, _wasn't she? _The rain began to pick up and as it did, Scotty felt a flood of guilt sweep through him, like a frigid gust of wind from the north. _I should have stuck with her, just a little longer. I loved her, what kind of man am I? To leave the woman I love, the woman I wanted to marry. _He wanted to hate himself but his thoughts were disconnected from his feelings. He tried to provoke the self-loathing he knew he should somehow be feeling but couldn't. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ He wondered.

It was an hour before Scotty decided to head back home. The rain came down even harder as he began to make his way back to his apartment, he no longer turned his collar to it, instead relishing the feeling of cold water hitting his face and the way his soaked clothes made him feel uncomfortable. He felt he deserved it for betraying her, for hurting her and for getting her killed. He blamed himself now and while his clothes were saturated with water, his mind was now saturated with those thoughts. The raindrops trickled down his cheeks he tried to convince himself that they were mixed with his tears because more than anything now, he just wanted to cry, to release his own demons that had begun haunting him since Stilman had broken the news to him. But he couldn't. He just couldn't cry.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Scotty felt a growing frustration at himself as he entered his apartment. He went into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of scotch. He had had enough of feeling this way; it was as if he wasn't even him. Like the part of him that he knew of as Scotty Valens had been locked up in a cage inside of him, slamming at the bars to break free but his sounds were swallowed by a vacuum. He took a sip and just he was about to put the glass down on the counter, he stopped and looked at it, suddenly remembering Lilly's words that morning. _The consequences catch up and they won't just affect you. _He knew she was right. Those consequences, those damn consequences!

The self-loathing kicked in. If he hadn't been so selfish he would have stayed with Elisa and helped her. He should have stayed with her, but he left her, more than likely hurt her and now she's dead. _She's dead because of me. I was supposed to have loved her, to be there for her..when she needed me, but I wasn't! I wasn't! _

He lifted up his glass and threw it against the wall, shattering it into pieces. Good. He felt anger. That was a start. But he needed more. He walked over to the living room and began pushing the furniture against the walls, feeling the anger building in him as he did so. Thoughts of his betrayal swirling round and round in his head, never letting up. Getting more and more intense. Once he'd finished move the furniture back he picked up his skipping rope and began to jump, his wet clothes made it more difficult than usual but he didn't care. Still he was unable to cry. _What the hell is wrong with me? _ He thought, then continued his onslaught on himself, with each thought he stomped the ground harder. He wanted to hurt himself.

_You loved her but you let her down!_ He told himself and he hit the ground harder.

_She was your girl since you were 14 and you betrayed her. _

He could feel his heart rate rise now and he was breathing harder. He wanted to push himself more; he wanted to keep going until he could feel pain.

_You said you wanted to marry her and then you flew when she got sick! _Scotty's face began to turn red. He kept going.

_She trusted you!_ The rhythm of his feet now sounded like the thudding of his heart. Thud.

_She loved you! _Thud.

_Now she's gone! _Thud, thud!

_She's never coming back! _

That was it, all the pain, all the guilt and all the remorse crashed into him like a powerful tidal wave and he felt his kneels buckle at the force. He slumped down onto the floor, wrapping the skipping rope around him and he began to cry. It was a stark contrast to before. Whereas then he had tried desperately to summon even one tear, now he found he could not hold them back. They washed over him, like a flood, cleansing him almost. He felt the pain he'd been suppressing come at him with a vengeance. Sadness crept through the pain and anger like a dark lava slowly emerging after being buried deeply for centuries, burning him deeply. It was a burning ache, which he felt to his core. How would his world be without her now? How would he be able to live with himself, knowing that maybe if he'd only made some different choices, things could have turned out differently? Would his heart ever stop hurting? How would he manage to keep it together each time something reminded him of this terrible tragedy?

If he was honest with himself, he didn't know what to do, how to move forward at that particular moment. His world was crashing down around him and all he could do was just sit there, the tears slowly falling from his eyes, feeling helpless and alone. He sat there, crying silently for about 20 minutes before he finally decided that he would take a shower.

He turned on the water and was soon surrounded by a cloud of steam. The water was a little too hot to be comfortable but Scotty didn't mind. He hoped that maybe the heat from the water would help clear his mind and it felt comforting in a way, being surrounded by warmth – a stark contrast to the coldness he felt inside. He stayed there for a while, trying to put things into some kind of perspective, trying to make sense of everything that had happened, but he was unsuccessful. He just couldn't get his head around why things had turned out the way they did. Suicide. Scotty tried to think about any warning signs that would have told him Elisa was headed for that. He turned it over in his mind as but he could not convince himself that this was inevitable. He just refused to believe that she would take her own life. Even the letter she had written him was full of hope, full of life, as she had been, even when she had gotten sick, she still had that spark of joy, of an intangible innocence about her. There was no way he could have seen this happening. That thought was at once both comforting and startling. He prided himself in his detective instincts but it made him realise that there are just some things in life he won't be able to see. He beat himself up over the things he should have told her, while there was still time. He missed her. Missed the sound of her voice, her presence, her smile, her warmth and her scent. And he realised that when Elisa had taken her own life, she had taken a part of him with her too. And like her, that piece of him would never come back. She was his first love. And he would never love a woman like he loved her.

Scotty eventually got out of the shower and put on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, he then headed for the kitchen to get himself something to eat. It was the first time since he learnt of her death that he actually felt hungry. Maybe the crying had done him some good, he thought.

On his way he passed by the coffee table as he heard his cell phone buzz, alerting him to a text message. He checked it and saw that there were voicemail messages from his mum, his brother, Will and Lilly and a text from Nick. He smiled. They were checking in on him, making sure he was okay. As much as he wanted to torture himself, he knew Lilly was right, that it would not only affect him but those around him too, the people who cared, And he realised in that moment that there _were_ people who cared about him, people who would be there for him, even if he just wanted to push them away, and realising this he knew that someday, they would help take the ache he felt away.


End file.
